


christmas eve will find me (where the love light gleams)

by stonerbughead



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bughead Secret Santa, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Grad Student AU, Idiots in Love, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Snowed In, and lots of spiked eggnog, exes to friends to lovers, mentions of FP's alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerbughead/pseuds/stonerbughead
Summary: When her friends realize they’re snowed in on campus over Christmas, the first thing on Betty Cooper’s mind isn’t cancelling plans with her family, but the not-at-all-subtle gift she left outside her ex-boyfriend Jughead Jones’s door.Or: five snowed in grad students, three meddling roommates, two pining exes trying to be “friends,” and one epic gift exchange when the clock strikes midnight on Christmas Eve.a bughead secret santa gift for @lourdesgv
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Veronica Lodge & Toni Topaz, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones & Reggie Mantle, minor veggie/varchiereggie
Comments: 48
Kudos: 128
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Bughead Secret Santa, Home for the HoliDale





	christmas eve will find me (where the love light gleams)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lourdesgv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lourdesgv/gifts).



> _a bughead secret santa gift for the absolutely lovely lourdesgv aka Lourdes aka @lilireinxarts on tumblr, go follow her for so many gorgeous and creative Bughead/Riverdale gifs!_ | also submitting to @riverdale-events’ Home for the Holidale — While You Were Sleuthing 
> 
> Dear Lourdes, you are truly one of the loveliest humans in our fandom and I was so excited to be your secret santa this year! so grateful to be your friend and to have gotten to know you even better this month! hope you had an amazing holiday and that you enjoy this fic chock full of some of your favorite dynamics, tropes, traditions, and more❤️🎄 love, Maria

and since i know Lourdes loves christmas music, here’s a [companion playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3JgpVAbtwX1Tvo4ONkF1Ra%20rel=)  
  


  
  


* * *

_Everyone's hoping for snow_

_But I'm just hoping that you might make it home_

-the vamps

(spoiler alert: in this story, they get a little of both)

* * *

  
  


There are moments—often beyond your control—that can completely change the course of your life, and sometimes you don’t even know it until much later. 

Betty Cooper has one of those moments in the shivery wind, red-faced and freezing even through her gloves, as Veronica Lodge finally gives up on trying to dig out her beloved car from a growing mound of snow.

Honestly, it was wishful thinking even leaving the building that night.

Something wild and untameable in Veronica must have needed to see it for herself. And Betty and Toni Topaz, ever the loyal friends, had no choice but to follow, each carrying a weekend bag as they opened the lobby door to a strong gust of wind.

Betty gulped, turning to shoot Toni a worried look as they trudged behind a stubborn Veronica across the sidewalk and into the parking lot, the snow easily past their ankles and flakes steadily falling all around them. Betty pulled her hood over her wool hat, already dreading the sure-to-be-long drive ahead. (Not to mention, the Christmas with the Coopers that awaited at her final destination.)

The lot was almost completely empty, the snow quickly piling up around the few cars that remained. Veronica’s shriek when she first spotted her buried car nearly gave Betty a heart attack. She grabbed onto Toni, almost slipping across a patch of ice in her surprise. 

“Sorry, B!” Veronica called as she rushed toward her car, seemingly willing to dig it out with her bare hands.

And so it’s Toni, the resident realist of the trio, who finally puts an end to the madness with a declarative “we’re not getting out of here tonight.”

Betty and Veronica’s twin frowns deepen at their pink-haired friend’s words. It’s December 23rd. They pushed their departure to the last possible minute, all dreading reunions with various overbearing family members, and in doing so, had self-sabotaged beyond their wildest imaginations.

“We’re...snowed in,” Betty says, her voice neutral as she attempts to process this significant change in plans. 

Veronica nods, a faraway look in her eyes before she echoes, “We’re snowed in!” The excitement that comes out at the end of her sentence has both Betty and Toni shooting her confused looks.

“We can make this work,” Veronica declares, a hand on her hip as she presses the button on her keyring to lock her car. The beep reverberates around the mostly-empty parking lot, and Betty turns, embarrassed, out of habit. Her eyes widen when she recognizes one of the cars covered in a rapidly-increasing pile of snow. _He’s still here._

And that’s when the panic sets in. 

“Betty?” Veronica says, in a tone that indicates she’s repeating herself.

Betty whips her head back around. “Yes?” she says, trying to hide how flustered she is. 

“I was just confirming that all the roads are closed anyway,” Toni explains, looking up from her phone, one of those so-called touch screen gloves on one hand and the other momentarily bare before she quickly returns her phone to her pocket. “Can we go inside? It’s fucking cold out here.”

Indeed, the snow is coming down even more thickly than when they’d first exited the lobby, and they hold on to each other as they trudge through the snowy lot with weekend bags still slung over their shoulders. 

“You okay, B?” Veronica asks, clearly sensing the racing thoughts that are, indeed, running on a loop through Betty’s head. “I’m sure Alice will forgive you in time.” 

_Oh. Right. Alice._ Because Veronica and Toni don’t know that just an hour earlier, Betty had sneaked upstairs and placed a carefully-wrapped gift outside a certain beanie-clad writer’s door, thinking he wouldn’t see it until he returned from Christmas break. 

“Thanks, V,” she says, not wanting to raise any suspicions as she tries to come up with a silent plan to retrieve said gift. “I hope so. You know how she gets.” 

The three friends finally return to the relieving warmth of Stonewall University graduate student housing, shuffling into the elevator that opens immediately for them, as they’re far too exhausted from the cold to climb the one flight of stairs. 

Back inside their shared suite, they pull off their wet socks and coats, hanging them up by the noisy radiator sputtering away in the corner of their common room. Betty gets to work making hot cocoa to take her mind off the sight of that car— _Jughead’s_ car—while Toni and Veronica escape to their rooms for warm pajamas. A couple minutes later Veronica emerges with Betty’s flannel PJs she knows were packed in the top of her bag. 

“Thanks, V,” she says sweetly, trading a mug of hot cocoa for her pajamas and heading to her room to change.

“So,” Toni says once the three of them are snuggled in on the couch with their mugs. “I guess we’re spending Christmas on campus.”

“I’ll have to break the news to Mommy and Daddy,” Veronica says, sounding only mildly disappointed. 

_Ugh, yeah. I should call Polly at some point, ask her to break the news. Or maybe Chic would be the better call. I’ll decide once I deal with...the gift._

“Sweet Pea’s grandma will be sad I’m not there to eat pumpkin pie with her,” Toni says sadly, referring to her oldest childhood friend back home, a sort of pseudo-sibling given her estrangement from her parents. 

“I’ll call Polly in a bit,” Betty verbalizes, realizing her friends are staring at her expectantly. “Hopefully she can break the news better than I can.”

Veronica laughs. “Well, once that’s out of the way, I already have the perfect way for us to celebrate this accidental Christmas on campus.”

Betty giggles, leaning back and taking another hearty sip of cocoa. “Of course you do.”

Toni agrees with an impressed snort. “What Lodge tradition must we emulate? I’m sure it’s fabulous and tasty.”

“True,” Betty agrees.

Veronica looks up from where she’s been scrolling through her phone. “Good, the market’s open tomorrow morning. We’ll need to pick up provisions for Christmas Eve dinner.”

“Christmas Eve dinner is the tradition?” Betty clarifies. 

“With all the Lodge family fixings, of course,” Veronica replies. “And a gift exchange once the clock strikes midnight, and it’s finally Christmas.”

“Is that what you guys did every year?” Betty asks, fascinated. “We just left out the milk and cookies for Santa and then woke excessively early on Christmas morning to wake our parents up and beg them to let us open gifts.”

Veronica grins, patting Betty’s hand. “That’s so sweet. But no, we always slept in on Christmas Day after the fabulous party the night before.”

“Well, if it’s gonna be a fabulous party until at least midnight, I’m doing _my_ Christmas tradition and making my infamous Topaz-family spiked eggnog,” Toni says. Betty groans while Veronica pumps her fist in the air. 

“And you can make Christmas cookies, Betty?” Veronica asks, looking up again from her phone, where she’s clearly making a list. Veronica and Betty’s propensity for making to-do lists had been one of the things they first bonded over when they met.

“Oh, yes. Learning how to make the perfect Christmas cookie was essential to my Cooper family upbringing,” Betty says, her friends laughing.

“Perfect,” Veronica says. “And Toni, you can be my sous-chef.”

Toni stifles a yawn, saluting Veronica as she says, “Whatever you say, captain.”

“It’s a good thing we were planning to exchange gifts on the way home,” Betty says absently. “So we can all exchange at midnight!”

“Yes!” Veronica says, clapping her hands together.

Toni yawns again loudly, stretching her arms over her head. “Am I dismissed?” she quips, already backing down the hallway toward her room. “I need a nap.”

“Yes, yes, I really should break the news to my mother anyway,” Veronica says, waving Toni away with one hand and typing on her phone with the other.

“Enjoy!” Betty says quickly, her feet tapping impatiently. 

Thankfully, Veronica hurries to her own room only a minute later with the phone to her ear. Betty waits until she hears Veronica’s door click shut behind her, and then she finally makes a break for it, grabbing the backpack she left by the door as she quietly exits the suite.

Betty takes the stairs, needing the three flights that separate their floors to theorize in peace, without the loving but disruptive chatter of her dearest friends. She thought he would be long gone back to Toledo, and that she’d be halfway to Riverdale by now. 

Betty can’t help but pray to a god she doesn't necessarily believe in that Jughead hasn’t already opened the door to find it. _Maybe he took the bus home. Or got a ride with Reggie. He’s not necessarily still here. It might not be too late._

“Stupid,” Betty whispers to herself. “Of course it wouldn’t work.”

 _It_ being Betty’s grand plan to reveal her feelings without actually having to reveal her feelings to her kinda-ex boyfriend who’s kinda-her-friend-now but who she really-wants-to-fuck. _And who I’m literally in love with._ Betty lets out an audible sigh. All of this is more complicated by the fact that Betty has been too embarrassed to tell Toni and Veronica any of this all semester, leaving her completely alone with the most difficult dilemma she’s ever faced.

_See, on a crisp day that September, as Betty was rushing out of the building, her heart nearly stopped in her throat at the sight of a familiar, crown-shaped beanie. It had never occurred to her before that she’d ever see Jughead Jones again. That she might get a second chance._

_“Jughead?” she said, tapping him on the shoulder. It was a bold move by Betty Cooper standards, but she was a woman possessed, physically unable to let the moment pass. When he turned around, the warm smile of recognition on his matured, handsome face only confirmed what Betty had always assumed to be true over the past five years since she’d seen Jughead: he’s the one that got away._

_The first time they met was also at school, in the small liberal arts college that became Betty’s alma mater and Jughead’s brief stint with private school before the universe snatched it back from him. At least, that’s how he described it, the night he came over to Betty’s dorm room to tell her he was leaving the next day, that they had to break up._

_Betty had been heartbroken; after all, they’d only been dating about a month and a half, preceded by a month of flirting in the freshman writing seminar where they met when the professor paired them up for an icebreaker exercise on the first day of the semester. The relationship was good; they’d just started_ really _fooling around, and Betty had started to wonder if Jughead could be the one she’d finally feel comfortable opening all of herself up to._

_The distraught conversation that followed made it clear that Jughead was just as upset by the separation as she was, small comfort for her fragile eighteen-year-old heart. But in time she’d come to see that there’s nothing else he could have done: Jughead’s dad fell off the wagon. Worried about his younger sister, Jughead made the difficult choice to transfer to a school closer to home so he could protect her. It was exactly the kind of fierce loyalty and protectiveness that had drawn her to him in the first place. How could she be upset about that? And how could either of them, so young and their relationship so new, have committed to continuing to date long-distance? And so on a November day five years earlier, they’d said their sad, inevitable goodbyes._

_And then, between each separately immersing themselves in their separate colleges and Jughead’s increasing responsibilities taking care of Jellybean, they’d lost touch._

_That is, until they discovered that they had yet again chosen the same place to be, this time for graduate school._

_“Betty?” Jughead had said, with the same tone of disbelief—like he, too, was trying to catch his breath._

_“You go here?” Betty blurted out._

_Jughead nodded. “Just started. I’m here to get my MFA. On a scholarship.” He added the last part with a smile that seemed half-embarrassed, half-proud._

_“Oh my God, Jug! That’s amazing. I always knew you could do it. I...always loved your writing,” she said._

_He smiled. “Thanks, Betty. What about you? On your way to being an investigative powerhouse at some fancy newspaper?”_

_Betty shook her head. “We have a lot to catch up on.”_

_“Well, where are you headed? I was going to the library.”_

_Betty blushed. “Same.”_

_And so that day, they walked to the library together, catching up and falling back into the kind of easy conversation that had initially bonded them. Betty found out that JB was a high school senior now, that she’d insisted Jughead apply to this MFA program, that she’d be okay for one more year and she didn’t want him to put off his dreams any longer._

_Betty told him about her own undergrad major switch from journalism to criminal justice, how she wanted to do something, anything, that contributed to delivering justice, after a tragedy in her hometown led to the death of her cousin Jason Blossom. How she minored in sociology and quickly discovered that she could never bring herself to play any sort of role in the twisted web of American law enforcement. How after one particularly grueling reading about policing last year, Betty had dropped her book and instead researched how to obtain a private investigation license. How she’s here for a master’s in psychology to deepen her investigative instincts, how her roommate Toni’s life experiences and passion for social work only made Betty feel more right about the decision she made._

_Jughead seemed impressed and supportive of these changes, but she noticed a worry crease forming on his forehead. “But you still fix cars, right?” he finally blurted out, and Betty felt that tug at her gut again, the one that told her that despite the couple relationships she’d gotten in and out of since she last saw Jughead, her feelings for him had only been lying dormant, waiting to be reignited._

_“Don’t worry, I’ll never give that up,” Betty says, laughing. “I was working at that same shop in Riverdale I told you about every summer. Just finished my latest stint last month before coming here. I’m fine with making a living as a mechanic forever, honestly,” Betty says. “But I want my PI license so that, no matter where I end up, I can still investigate on the side.”_

_“You’re really something, Betty Cooper,” Jughead says._

_Betty blushes. “How about you, Jug? Have you written the Great American Novel yet?”_

_Jughead’s cheeks redden too, and he averts his eyes as he responds, “Not yet. But that’s why I’m here.”_

_It wasn’t until they reached the library and Jughead admitted he needed to meet up with his study group ( “but can we exchange numbers to continue this conversation?”) and he finally walked away from her, that Betty realized they had not once acknowledged their past romantic relationship. They hadn’t even really stated_ how _they knew all these intimate things about each other. Just that they did. At the time, smiling down at Jughead’s name, once again programmed into her phone, she figured it would come up next time they hung out. That, just like their first relationship, friendship would quickly fade into something more. Only fifteen minutes together and Betty already knew it was what she wanted. That_ he _was what she wanted._

_But that day was no fluke. They quickly fell into a rhythm, becoming companionable study buddies, friends who shared meals or met up in the library a couple times a week. Throughout the semester, Jughead occasionally hit her up to come over and watch a movie with him and his roommate Reggie Mantle—Betty got excited every time that something might happen, but it was almost always to save Jug from having to third-wheel Reggie and his latest conquest._

_They talked to each other as old friends, acknowledged even in front of Reggie that they’d attended the same college for a time. But they somehow never acknowledged the fact that for nearly two months, they’d spent quite a lot of time exploring the inside of each other’s mouths. And discovering that Jughead’s long fingers translate very well to the bedroom._

_By December, Betty couldn’t take it anymore. And so the plan had been hatched: to let the written word speak for her, as it so often had in their previous relationship, when Betty had taken to reading Jughead’s writing before he brought it to his freshman fiction workshop. She used to leave him meticulous notes in the margins, and they’d passed love notes occasionally in class, too._

_As an upstart journalism major, Betty had kept a meticulous journal that semester, wanting to practice her “observation skills,” as she remembers proudly telling Jughead when he picked it up the first time she invited him over to her room. It was exactly the kind of journal you’d expect an eighteen-year-old liberal arts student to carry: small, sleek, black, leatherbound._

_“Maybe you can read it sometime,” she’d said at the time, before collapsing into Jughead’s waiting arms, their passionate kisses quickly making them forget about the journal._

_Nevertheless, the journal—the purchase of an excited rising freshman in August—officially transformed into a Jughead-specific artifact the day they finally kissed. Betty ran home and wrote down every single detail she could remember, and the ritual followed for every “first” they shared over that too-brief month and a half._

_Only a week after she saw Jughead again on Stonewall’s campus, Betty found the journal at the bottom of one of her duffle bags. She’d stopped writing in it when Jughead transferred schools, and so there were many blank pages left, just inviting her to fill them._

_And so she did. Immediately, she fell back into the habit of cataloguing their interactions, observing how cute the curl that hangs out of his beanie looked on any given day, and recording jokes he told that made her throw her head back in laughter._

_Betty couldn’t think of any better gift to give Jughead that would explain what she’s been too afraid to tell him, no matter how many times she psychs herself up before they meet up. This semester, she’s chickened out every single time. She figured if she dropped the gift off before break, she could put off the interaction until January, giving her Christmas to prepare for possible rejection._

_And yet…_

Betty lets out a deep breath when she finally rounds the corner to the fourth floor, where Jughead and Reggie live only two doors down from the stairwell. 

She takes another pause to catch her breath before barreling toward the familiar door, her stomach swooping when she spots the shine of her silver-and-gold wrapping paper out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh, thank _God_ ,” she whispers, stooping over and picking up the little package. She pumps her fists in the air excitedly before shoving it into her backpack. She’s just rezipping the bag and throwing it over her shoulder, imagining the hot shower she’ll take when she returns safely back to the room, when the door opens. 

Betty jumps back, a hand on her chest. “Shit,” she says, and Jughead laughs from the doorway.

“Betty?”

“Oh...hi, Jug. Happy, um...Merry Christmas Eve...Eve. Festivus, right?” 

Jughead looks equal parts confused and amused by her rambling, and Betty hopes he’s distracted enough not to notice her fiddling with her backpack, which she’d only had half-secured around her shoulders before he startled her. 

“Yeah,” he says laughing. “Merry Christmas. We’re celebrating with a classic Christmas movie as you can see.” He gestures into his suite, which is dark, illuminated only by the many bright explosions that tell Betty before Reggie does: “ _Die Hard_ is the best Christmas movie ever!” 

Reggie turns briefly to wave to her from the couch, and Betty’s face softens when she notices that the pair of them are both wearing sweaters. _Roommate movie night. But that implies...planning? How did he_ not _see my gift? Maybe god_ is _a woman._

“What are you still doing here?” Betty asks, unsure how else to ask what she needs to ask without revealing everything. 

“Oh, didn’t you know Reggie’s getting a degree in meteorology?” 

Betty’s eyes widen. “I...I did not.”

Jughead chuckles at her reaction before continuing. “ _Well_ , he predicted this snowstorm last night, so we broke the news to our families yesterday that we’d waited too long to leave and would therefore not be able to safely get home for Christmas.” 

Betty shoots him a suspicious look. “Wouldn’t he have been able to predict it any earlier so you could’ve just...left earlier?”

Jughead winks. “Okay, listen. Sometimes we use our powers for evil, sometimes for good...hey, wait, what are _you_ still doing here? And why are you at our door?”

Betty’s face warms. In all of her worrying, she somehow hadn’t come up with a plan for this particular scenario. 

“I...we got snowed in too. Me and Veronica and Toni, I mean. We didn’t get the, uh...memo, so we really pushed it. We tried to leave about an hour ago.”

Jughead laughs. “Oh, wow. Yeah, Veronica’s car must’ve been buried.”

“Correct,” Betty says, the very words helping her concoct the perfect on-her-feet excuse. “I...exactly!”

He shoots her a questioning but amused look.

“I saw your car!” she continues. “In- in the lot. And I thought, ‘maybe he’s still here.’ Because...well, Toni and Veronica—you know Veronica, even snowed in, she’s insisting we have this big Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night, and I...wanted to see if you were around and I thought, if you didn’t have anywhere to go, maybe...you’d want to come.”

She looks up at Jughead, mortified and certain her face is as red as a poin-fucking-setta, but before Jughead can even respond, Reggie comes up behind him and says, “Amazing, we’re in. I’ll make the pies.”

“Great, great, perfect,” Betty says, wringing her hands together nervously. 

“Yeah, thanks for the invite, Betty,” Jughead says, though he still seems to be inspecting her suspiciously, _seeing_ her in that way only Jughead ever has. 

She squirms under his gaze. “Don’t mention it. Snowed-in grad students gotta stick together, am I right?”

This time Reggie gives her a weird look. “...Right. Well, not to be rude, B Coop, but we’re kind of having a very important roommate _Die Hard_ viewing right now.”

“Right, right. Sorry to interrupt. I’ll text you the details tomorrow, Jug...Jughead,” Betty says. _Goddammit, fucked up the nickname, classic tell._

“Sounds great,” Jughead says, waving with a mouthed “I’m sorry” as Reggie moves to close the door.

Betty can’t help but face-palm when the door finally closes, though she pats the gift in her backpack as a reminder that she succeeded—and blessing herself for thinking to bring the backpack, otherwise she’d have been caught _literally_ red-handed. _Like Rudolph...no, no time for that!_

Now she just needs to figure out how to get Jughead alone to give this gift to him...and how to gain the courage to face him, rather than drop her feelings and run like she’d planned to do. “Okay, yeah, now I _really_ need a long shower,” Betty mutters to herself as she heads back down the stairs. _Showers are for plotting. Among other things._

* * *

Betty wakes up on Christmas Eve morning to Veronica’s voice loudly calling from the hallway for Betty to wake “the fuck up please, my darling!”

“We have coffee!” comes Toni’s voice next.

Disgruntled, Betty finally emerges into the common area only half-dressed ten minutes later, rubbing her eyes. She’d stayed in the shower a good thirty minutes the night before, running through all the possible scenarios now that she’ll be attending a _Christmas Eve gift exchange_ with Jughead. 

“Girl, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Toni says, handing Betty a mug.

Betty accepts gratefully, not having enough caffeine in her body to unpack the accidental heavy-handed metaphor there. “Merry Christmas Eve morning to you too,” she grumbles instead, before taking a large gulp of coffee.

“What coal has gotten in _your_ stocking, B?” Veronica says, making Toni snort from where she’s writing out a list. 

“Such a Christmas troll,” Toni teases V.

Betty sighs, knowing it’s time to fess up. “After we all...retired to our rooms last night,” Betty begins. “I may or may not have gone over to Jughead’s door to...retrieve something I had left there. You know, thinking he’d read it once we all returned from break.”

Toni and Veronica’s eyes both snap up from their beverages. “What did you retrieve?” Veronica asks curiously.

“Oh, you know…” Betty bites her lip before just getting it over with, “...just a gift that very obviously reveals my deep-seated crush on him!” Betty says. “Oh, yeah. I have a deep-seated crush on him.”

Toni and Veronica both laugh, Toni adding, “Girl, we _been_ knew.”

Betty blushes. “Is it that obvious?”

Veronica shrugs while Toni nods emphatically beside her.

“Well, there _is_ something you don’t know…” Betty says, bracing herself for the reprimands that are surely to come. “Jughead...technically, he’s my ex.”

Veronica puts her glass down purposefully on the table, her palms resting under her chin as she leans forward. “ _Intrigue._ ”

Betty sighs. “We haven’t really...talked about the fact that we’re exes? We ran into each other in September, and just sort of went with it. You know, being friends. With him _and_ Reggie. But we dated for nearly two months, our freshman year of undergrad.”

“No fucking way!” Toni says. “Why did you break up?”

Betty rubs her hands around the molded rim of her mug, needing something to do with her hands. “He had to transfer schools, move back home to take care of his sister. We were both upset about it, but we felt like we had no other choice. We...lost touch. Until…”

“Until this semester,” Veronica finishes, clapping her hands together. “When you have reignited that passion.”

Betty’s cheeks burn. “Well, _my_ ‘passions’ are reignited,” she says in a joking tone. “But are Jug’s? He’s never brought it up either—not our past romantic relationship, and definitely not the idea of starting a new one.”

Toni and Veronica both snort, Veronica picking her mug back up and returning her gaze to the shopping list, as if this matter has already been settled. 

“That boy’s only got eyes for you, Betty,” Toni says before Betty can get out the protest on the tip of her tongue. 

“Even if that _is_ true,” Betty says. “How am I supposed to tell him? I was trying to take the easy way out by giving him this nostalgic gift that would kinda...lay it all out there without me having to. And now…”

“You can _still_ do that, only face to face,” Veronica says, barely looking up from the shopping list. “Give him the same gift tonight, at midnight! You already invited him, didn’t you?”

Betty nods. “I didn’t technically tell him it was a gift exchange, I just told him I’d text him details.”

“Well then, text him those details and let us focus on this shopping list!” Toni says. “I promise we will be your wingwomen later.”

Betty laughs and sips her coffee. “Well, then. I guess I can’t really argue.”

“We gotta get to the store before everything’s gone!” Veronica explains. “Now, B, what do you need for those cookies?”

Toni and Veronica get bundled up and leave for the store five minutes later. Once she’s locked the door behind them, Betty sits back on the couch, sipping the last precious drops of her first cup of coffee and drafting texts in her head. 

“Time for a second cup and a final draft,” she whispers to herself, going into their little kitchen to brew another pot. 

Finally, as the coffee begins dripping behind her, Betty settles on: _Hey! If you and Reggie are still down, here are the details for tonight, as promised: appetizers at 6, followed by dinner, dessert, and a gift exchange at midnight. Let us know if we should expect you so I can tell Toni and Veronica how much food to make._

She stands there staring at her phone nervously, not even having any coffee to sip as a distraction, but he texts back almost immediately.

 **JUGHEAD:** we’re definitely down! Sounds super fun, thanks for inviting us. What can we do to contribute? You know, besides Reggie’s pies and all the alcohol and weed we own between the two of us?

Betty, feeling bold, bites her lip as she types out her reply.

 **BETTY:** well, Veronica and Toni are planning on commandeering the communal kitchen in the basement to make most of the food, and I've been left to make all the cookies by myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pro, but I could really use an assistant… ;)

Betty hides her face in her hands from the moment she types out the winky-face emoji until the minute her phone rings. She grins wide when she realizes Jughead has _called_ her back instead of texting. _Jughead Jones, an endless mystery._

“Hello?” Betty answers, hoping she doesn’t sound too breathless. 

“Reggie is already making his first pie,” Jughead explains. “And he’s banned me from the kitchen. So, what I’m saying is: I’d love to help you make cookies.”

* * *

Betty barely has time to prepare herself between Toni and Veronica returning with ingredients and Jughead knocking on her door. 

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Jughead says when Betty opens the door to greet him, his palm outstretched toward her, containing a single, fat nug of weed. 

“Merry Christmas Eve indeed. Come on in,” she says, accepting the offer and dropping it in the mason jar of weed resting on their coffee table.

“So, how can I help? Besides licking the spoon, which was always my speciality.” 

Betty laughs, her face warming when she realizes how tight it’ll be in this little kitchen when they start _really_ baking. “Why am I not surprised?” 

“Because it’s very on brand for me, Betty,” Jughead insists.

“That phrase sounds very unnatural coming out of your mouth.”

“Very true.” Jughead laughs, rolling up the sleeves of the crewneck sweater he’s wearing. Betty has to resist the temptation to openly swoon at how toned and sexy his arms look. 

“Now, where do you want me?” he asks, apparently unaware of how much he’s torturing her. 

Betty’s cheeks burn at his words, and she turns around to grab flour from the cabinet in an attempt to recover. “We’re gonna make a shit ton of sugar cookie dough first,” Betty says. “So I’ll need you to measure lots of white powdery things for me.” 

Jughead laughs. “Sounds illegal.”

Betty laughs too, handing Jughead a container of baking powder. “Oops, didn’t mean to sound so Nancy Botwin.”

Jughead continues to joke as Betty passes him baking soda next. “Listen, drugs or no drugs, I won’t talk. You can trust me for the job, Betts.” 

As Betty turns away to retrieve various mixing bowls and measuring spoons from their crowded kitchen cabinets, Jughead’s gaze flits toward the movie Betty put on the TV before Toni and Veronica headed down to the basement kitchen to start on their cooking. 

“ _Home Alone_?” he says. “Nice choice.”

“Well, it’s no _Die Hard_ ,” Betty teases.

Jughead laughs. “Okay, you got me there. But _Home Alone_ is a true Christmas classic, no Internet dispute.”

“Agreed,” Betty says, grinning and coming up next to him with a mixing bowl and a measuring cup. Is she imagining it or do they both blush when their elbows touch? “Now, measure the sugar and flour for me?”

“You got it, Betts,” Jughead says, and they quickly fall into a surprisingly perfect rhythm, one that Betty has never really achieved in a kitchen with any guy before. And she’s including her brother Chic in that.

Jughead seems to know his way around a kitchen, and Betty is surprised for only a moment before remembering with a pang that he must have _had_ to. Between the first time they met and the past few months, Betty knows that Jughead practically raised himself. 

Nevertheless, as Betty rolls dough and Jughead periodically sweeps and keeps track of timers on the oven, they manage to have a hearty debate about which Christmas movie is actually best. Betty defends the humor in _The Grinch_ , her weird childhood obsession with Zooey Deschanel in _Elf_ , and the unhinged chaos of _The Family Stone,_ while Jughead swears by only the classics— _It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story,_ and _Miracle on 34th Street_ —none of which Betty can really argue with. 

When the first batch of cookies come out of the oven, Betty has to practically slap Jughead’s hands away to keep him from stealing one. “We have to decorate them now, Jug,” she says and he blushes. 

“Oh,” he says sheepishly. “Are you sure I’m gonna be able to help with this task? I’m not as...dainty as you are.”

Now Jughead’s cheeks are red, and Betty can’t help but flirt a little harder, buoyed by that knowledge. “Just watch me real close,” she says, picking up a frosting bag to decorate a snowflake.

“Wow, you’re really good at that,” he says, the awe in his voice making Betty’s entire body tingle.

“You can do it too,” Betty insists, thrusting the frosting into his hand so quickly their fingers brush. “Here,” she says, focusing completely on the snowman-shaped cookie on the sheet before them. 

“You have to show me,” Jughead replies, his voice softer. 

“Start along the edges of the snowman,” she suggests, grinning as she watches him maneuver the frosting bag in the most uncoordinated way possible. She reaches again for his hand, guiding it in the right direction, and when she finally lets go again, his form has... _somewhat_ improved. 

Jughead finishes his first cookie with an exaggerated flourish, and they both laugh at the way the button nose melts into the corncob pipe. 

“It has character,” he defends, and they laugh even harder.

After they’ve successfully decorated two batches of sugar cookies, Betty shows Jughead how to make gingerbread men—“and women, Betty,” he insists, causing more teasing about whether he qualifies as a proper “male ally.” (The entire conversation reminds Betty of eighteen-year-old Jughead asking if he was “allowed” to call himself a feminist.)

There’s a moment—Betty pulling the first batch of gingerbread cookies out of the oven and onto the wire rack to cool, Jughead attempting to maneuver around her to swap in the second batch—when their gazes linger, their elbows touching. They’re so close together, Betty wonders if she just leaned in now, would he lean in too to meet her? But then the common room door bursts open, and Betty and Jughead spring apart before she can find out.

Betty’s heart is racing as they both whip their heads toward the door to find Veronica and Toni walking into the room with cooking utensils in hand. 

“We needed some more ingredients!” Veronica declares. “Hello, Jughead. We ran into your roommate in the kitchen down there. His pies are coming along swimmingly.” Toni shoots Betty an apologetic look as Veronica sneaks by Betty and Jughead to retrieve things from the fridge. 

“That boy can _cook_ ,” Veronica continues, sounding fairly intrigued as she continues to talk about Reggie.

“You want me to set you up, Veronica?” Jughead jokes, making Betty laugh in surprise.

Veronica shrugs. “Maybe. We’ll see what I think after tonight. I do have my eye on...other prospects at the moment.”

“Ah, I would expect nothing less,” Jughead says, and Toni gives him an impressed nod, like she knows exactly what he’s doing. 

_Another notch in the “he likes me back” column. He’s trying to get along with my friends._

“Can you two do us a favor?” Veronica cuts in, an exaggerated wink that makes Betty think this is the real reason they came in to “grab ingredients from the room.”

“What?” Betty asks, a little exasperated by the interruption at this point. _We were_ just _getting somewhere._

“Go to that little tree stand in town and get us whatever’s left?” Veronica asks, and Betty’s face immediately softens. “We just need a little something, even if it’s a Charlie Brown situation. We _can’t_ have a gift exchange without a tree.”

Toni holds up a cheap five-pack of red ball ornaments. “We improvised at the market,” she adds with a shrug.

“Nice choice,” Jughead says and Betty smiles. 

Betty turns to Jughead. “Well, I’m down to venture out if you are.”

Jughead nods, holding her gaze for a second too long, and Betty’s heart nearly skips a goddamn beat, which she didn’t realize actually happened to people in real life. “Let’s do it,” Jughead says. 

“When we’re done with this batch of gingerbread men,” Betty says to Toni and Veronica in a no-nonsense tone.

“Gingerbread _people,_ ” Jughead corrects and Toni snorts.

* * *

Betty bundles up and meets Jughead in the lobby, both wearing their most heavy-duty winter boots for the trek ahead. Betty can’t help but muse inwardly at the fact that she and Jughead are both continually drawn to small schools tucked in the middle of nowhere. The “little tree stand” in question is actually a barn belonging to a nearby farm that sells Christmas trees every year. In less-snowy times, it’s easily a ten-minute walk, but an incredibly charming one at that.

“You ready for this?” Jughead asks, as if he can read her mind.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Betty says. “I haven’t been outside since we tried to dig Veronica’s car out yesterday.”

“Wow, guess I haven’t been outside for two days then. Got ya beat,” Jughead jokes, holding the door open for her. They both visibly shiver at the burst of cold air that meets them.

Betty and Jughead take a minute to gawk at the glistening wonder of their campus, practically a snowy postcard picture of Northeastern winter. There are only a couple steps of footprints headed toward town, probably Toni and Veronica’s from their market trip earlier.

“It looks so…untouched,” Betty says, and Jughead smiles. 

“Much nicer than when everyone’s still here, and the snow becomes dirty slush before we even wake up,” Jughead agrees. 

However, the downside of being snowed in? The maintenance staff have not quite made it to grad student housing yet, leaving Betty and Jughead to brave the unshoveled path. It’s still bitterly cold out, making all the snow still packed and dense.

“Reggie really called all of this?” Betty says as they start down the path. 

“He’s really good at what he does,” Jughead says. “And can’t you see him as a super charming weatherman?”

Betty laughs. “Actually, I totally can see tha--AH!” Betty practically slips on a particular icy patch of snow. Betty’s stomach swoops when Jughead reaches his strong arms out to catch her just in time. 

“Shit,” she whispers, her cheeks red with more than just the cold. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jughead says, his voice soft. He releases her carefully, keeping a hold on one of her hands. “Maybe we should just…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Betty says, trying to hide her grin. “So we don’t slip.”

“Exactly.”

And so they continue toward town, at a slower and more careful pace than usual, gloved hands intertwined.

“So,” Jughead says, breaking the comfortable yet almost eerie silence. “How did Alice take your absence from the Cooper family Christmas?”

Betty laughs. “I called Polly last night, and she told me I really lucked out, because apparently my parents do _not_ like Chic’s new boyfriend he brought home.” 

Jughead chuckles. “Ah, now there’s some Christmas drama for ya.”

“Honestly, it could be a lot worse. All I’ve had to deal with today is one five-minute conversation with Alice that was mostly a chance for her to vent about this boyfriend,” Betty explains, laughing. “I told her I’ll come home for Easter to appease her.”

“You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve, Betts,” Jughead teases. 

“What about you?” Betty says. “Is JB upset you’re not home for Christmas?”

Jughead shrugs, turning away from Betty, but she holds his hand extra tight, as if afraid he’ll withdraw it. 

“This was supposed to be the first Christmas the two of us spent with my dad in...years,” Jughead explains, his voice softer than usual. “But I found out three days ago that my dad...he’s not as sober as I thought, I’ll just say that.”

Betty’s face falls, remembering a time Jellybean called while they were hanging out, how excited she’d sounded about how well FP was doing. “Fuck, the holidays are so hard,” Betty says.

Jughead nods. “They really are. And I just...couldn’t do it. I was too afraid to tell JB the truth, so when Reggie told me I had to leave early in time to get home before the storm hits...we came up with the plan to pretend we got snowed in instead.”

Betty’s face softens, and she squeezes Jughead’s hand. “Reggie’s a good friend.”

“He is. But it’s a little mutually beneficial this time. Let’s just say, Reggie doesn’t exactly want to see his dad either.” 

Betty nods, frowning. “Some people shouldn’t be parents.”

Jughead laughs bitterly in agreement. “I’m just...I’m so fucking scared I’m gonna become my dad, Betty.”

Betty stops Jughead in his tracks, now on the side of the road that leads into town, halfway to their destination. She removes her hand from his to cup his cheek instead, forcing his eyes to lock on hers for the first time since they started talking about his dad. 

“You’re not your dad, Jughead. We’re not our parents. You’re a good person. I see it every day.” As the words come out of Betty's mouth, she notices Jughead’s face soften, and is that...could it be something like love in his eyes? 

“Thanks, Betty,” he says, grabbing onto her hand to gently push it off his face. “For the record, you’re not your mom either.”

Betty bites her lip, smiling. “Thanks, Jug.” 

He keeps a steady hold on her hand and they start walking again toward town, almost slipping on another patch of ice a minute later.

“It’s dangerous out here!” Betty jokes as they readjust themselves, and the mood shifts back to the festive flirtation they’ve been immersed in all day.

“The things we do for a Lodge family Christmas,” Jughead jokes. 

Inside the little barn, Jughead finally drops Betty’s hand as they greet the kind older couple standing at the entrance. They walk across the creaky beams, surveying the picked-over inventory.

“Everything’s half off!” the husband calls from his perch.

“A bargain!” Jughead jokes to Betty.

With only so many choices left, they settle on the largest of the saplings, trading an extra $20 for a pack of string lights from the sparsely-populated shelves behind the register. 

“Merry Christmas, you two,” the wife calls after them as Betty and Jughead each grab a side and start their walk home.

“I didn’t think about how much shittier the walk home _with_ the tree would be,” Betty pants when they make their first rest stop only a minute down the road from the barn.

“Me either,” Jughead admits, rubbing his forehead. “But we can do it.”

By the time they reach campus, Betty’s tingly all over. They laugh and tease each other the whole way home, having to touch again often to adjust their grips and help each other not completely slip on the packed, iced-over snow. It feels good, even better than the first time they were dating. She’s almost afraid to disturb the dynamic.

As luck would have it, it begins to snow again as soon as Betty and Jughead near their dorm. But then, a Christmas miracle: none other than Reggie Mantle is standing outside the building lobby, puffing on what smells like a delicious marijuana cigarette. 

“Reg!” Jughead calls, and his head snaps up. “A little help?”

Reggie hurries toward them, trading Betty the joint for his grip on the tree. She takes a grateful hit, the smoke filling her with exactly the kind of warmth she needed. She passes it to Jughead, who turns away from the tree to take a couple tokes before putting it out in the snow.

Betty leads the two boys into the building and they ride the elevator, tree in their arms, back to Betty’s suite. “This Christmas celebration is really coming together, Betty,” Jughead says. “Thanks for including us.”

“Seriously,” Reggie agrees when Toni and Veronica open the door to greet them. 

“Oh, this could be a lot worse!” Veronica says in greeting, inspecting the tree as Reggie and Jughead maneuver it into the common room.

The atmosphere inside the common area is pretty festive considering the late notice. There’s an evergreen candle burning in the corner, and the room still smells faintly of the cookies Betty and Jughead baked earlier. While they were gone, Toni and Veronica had fished out as many makeshift decorations as they could—a couple paper garlands, some trinkets hanging on their walls that could double as ornaments. 

Reggie and Jughead help place the tree in the corner in its water, and Betty and Jughead end up stringing the lights they’d purchased, almost getting tangled up for another tantalizing moment that passes too quickly. 

“This looks great,” Reggie says, standing back to survey their work. “I’ll bring me and Jughead’s stockings when we return to contribute to the holiday vibe.”

Jughead blushes beside him at the admission of their roommate stockings, though Veronica openly swoons. 

Betty wants to say something to Jughead, to forget about the midnight plan and just invite him into her room right now. This entire day has just felt...charged, and different. Like without anyone around to watch them, the masks have finally come fully off. It can’t just be her. Right?

But before Betty can throw caution to the super cold Christmas wind, Reggie interrupts. “We should go get changed, huh, Jug?”

The sentence seems to spring Jughead into action, though Betty swears there’s a slight look of regret that crosses his face when he turns back to her to say, “Yeah, I should shower after carrying that Christmas tree all the way here.”

Betty nods, blushing. “Same.”

“When should we come back for the big shindig?” Reggie asks.

“6 PM,” Veronica cuts in, surveying Reggie up and down. 

“Yeah, I _really_ gotta change,” Reggie repeats, running a hand not-so-subtly through his hair before bolting for their room without waiting for Jug.

Betty smirks at Jughead. “Well, this is gonna be interesting.”

“Why yes, it will,” Jughead replies, a similar expression on his own face.

“Don’t forget to bring your gifts!” Veronica chirps from behind Betty. “We’ll be exchanging when the clock turns midnight and it officially becomes Christmas, per Lodge family tradition!”

Betty shoots Jughead a look that she hopes says “we have little-to-no power to stop Veronica in this scenario, so please go along with it.”

It seems to work, as he smiles at both of them and salutes them cheekily before heading in the direction Reggie disappeared. 

Betty closes the door behind the boys, practically collapsing onto Veronica. “Oh my God, I am _so_ in love with him,” she whines and both Toni and Veronica cheer.

“This is progress, that you’re admitting this. Only a few hours until he knows it too!” Veronica says, linking her arm excitedly through Betty’s. 

“Step one,” Toni says, emerging from her room with her make-up kit. “Get ready! I already showered, so one of you has to duke it out for the next turn.”

Betty and Veronica turn to each other and wordlessly sprint toward the shower, collapsing in a heap at the door, laughing. “Ugh, you can go first, V,” Betty says, finally giving in. 

“I can always join you, Betty,” Veronica says. “You know, save water.” She winks, and Toni laughs at the inside joke that’s been going on since Veronica tipsily admitted to Betty that she had a crush on her for the first two weeks they’d been friends, before she realized Betty was (“sadly, tragically”) straight. It still makes Betty blush every time—especially since both Toni and Veronica are bisexual—which only makes Toni and Veronica reference the joke even more. ( _Curse you, Alice Cooper, for ingraining such prudeish ways!)_

“That won’t be necessary,” Betty says now, feeling the telltale warmth in her cheeks. “I’ll go after you, V. I’ll just...go pick out an outfit for now.”

“Open offer!” Veronica jokes with a giggle.

“I’ll let Reggie know too,” Toni adds cheekily before Veronica disappears into the shower.

* * *

Reggie and Jughead arrive promptly at 6 PM, presenting three pies, two bottles of wine, and a huge jar of weed. 

“Oh, _yes_. _Please_ , come in,” Toni says enthusiastically. 

Betty and Veronica are just finishing setting the card table they’d borrowed from the basement, covered with a red paper tablecloth Veronica found at the market. 

Since Reggie and Jughead left, Betty and Veronica had dimmed the overheads and moved the string of Christmas lights from Toni’s bedroom to frame the common room window instead. Meanwhile, Toni had brewed an excessive amount of her spiked eggnog while curating “the perfect Christmas playlist.”

“Such ambience,” Jughead says, impressed, as they all settle around the coffee table to pick at the cheese and crackers Betty put together alongside Veronica’s “famous Lodge family vitello tonnato” and savory piononos. 

“Abuelita would be very proud of this spread,” Veronica declares after her first bite, and soon they’re all digging in, laughing at Veronica’s outrageously funny tales about her abuelita.

“This is seriously amazing,” Jughead agrees around a mouthful of pionono and Betty can’t help but giggle, handing him a napkin. 

Dinner is served only a half hour later and equally delicious, a simple salad and an elaborate pasta dish and lots of roasted vegetables. Reggie pops open one of the bottles of wine, and Betty can feel her face warm with each sip. She swears she catches Jughead smiling at her across the table a couple times.

“Toni, Veronica, you have murdered me with your amazing cooking,” Reggie declares when he finishes, dropping his napkin on his plate rather dramatically. 

“You can thank us by opening up that second bottle of red,” Veronica flirts, throwing down her own napkin as well. 

Betty and Jughead end up in the kitchen, stacking utensils in the sink and falling into yet another natural rhythm as they scrape and rinse plates like they’ve done this a million times before.

From the common area, they hear the pop of a cork, Veronica pouring generous glasses of wine for her and Reggie while Toni serves her eggnog with an exaggerated flourish. The three of them are so loud that Betty and Jughead mostly wash and dry in companionable silence, eavesdropping on their friends’ conversation and exchanging occasional looks and giggles in reaction to their more outrageous statements.

By the time they return to join their friends, Reggie, Toni, and Veronica have loudly bonded over their shared bisexuality, prompted by Reggie noticing the bi pride flag Toni and Veronica have hanging in the common room. The discovery had prompted a round of eggnog, and Betty can tell all three of them are a little more sloshed since dinner.

Rather conveniently, the only spot left to sit is a corner of the couch that forces Betty and Jughead to snuggle in. 

Veronica winks at Betty before saying, “How about a Christmas movie, everyone? It’s only 8 after all, and we need to kill time till _midnight!_ ”

Betty smiles at Jughead, who looks pretty pleased himself as they settle in next to each other on the couch, a tight fit. “Sorry,” she whispers when she accidentally brushes his side with her elbow.

“Don’t apologize,” he responds quickly. 

A raucous debate commences, and when the dust finally settles, Reggie and Jughead try to figure out which streaming service won the rights to _A Christmas Carol,_ while Toni microwaves popcorn and Betty and Veronica arrange Christmas cookies on a tray. 

“Is this okay?” Jughead asks as the movie begins, his arm slung around her shoulder as four of them attempt to squish on the couch.

“Very okay,” she replies quietly, and they stay that way through the entire movie, as Reggie heckles each ghost who visits Ebenezer Scrooge on the screen before them.

After the movie ends, Reggie suggests a “post-movie joint,” and they crack open a window and start passing it back and forth, all five of them crowded around. Betty starts to wonder if Veronica and Toni said something to Reggie, because it seems they’re all making a point to ensure Betty and Jughead are crowded close together as they all smoke and laugh about Christmases past, about how much family members are probably freaking out about their absence at various celebrations.

When the joint finally burns down to a roach, Betty returns to the couch shivering from how long the window had been open. Veronica and Toni linger by the window, but Jughead seizes the opportunity to sit beside her. 

“You look cold,” he says, and before she can even protest, he grabs the throw blanket they keep flung over the couch and sits down beside her again, smoothing the blanket over both their legs.

“Better?” he asks softly.

“Much,” she replies. 

Betty swears Veronica and Reggie exchange a look as Toni runs around pouring everyone another round of eggnog.

“Time for pie?” Toni suggests as she tops Reggie off. 

“Yes, I can’t wait to sample these famous pies!” Betty calls. 

Reggie bounds up to serve them, Veronica joining him to bring the rest of the Christmas cookies to the coffee table. 

“Dessert is served!” Reggie calls with a little flourish of his own, and Betty can’t help but laugh loudly. Reggie really is one-of-a-kind.

“Okay, this pie is amazing,” Betty says after her first bite of the pumpkin pie. (Truly impressive, Reggie had concocted a pumpkin, apple, _and_ pecan pie.)

“He may be a diva in the kitchen, but it’s for good reason,” Jughead agrees through his own bite of pecan. 

The night continues in a haze of drinking and laughter and Christmas music, which Veronica and Toni occasionally get up to dance and sing along to. They know multiple TikTok dances that have the rest of them screaming with laughter.

During a lull in the party atmosphere, Reggie bemoans his huge crush on campus hottie Archie Andrews, which sets off another round of madness.

“Wait, you like Archie?” Veronica says. “But _I_ like Archie.”

Jughead laughs. “Is that the prospect you mentioned earlier, Veronica?”

“It most certainly is! I’ve put in a full month of work, what have you done?” she says challengingly to Reggie.

“Uh, swiped right on Tinder last week?” Reggie replies.

Betty and Jughead both laugh loudly. “This is amazing entertainment,” Betty whispers to Jughead, who nods enthusiastically in agreement. 

“Well then, may the best lover win,” Reggie says, eyebrows waggling, and Veronica bursts out laughing. “Of course, you can always try the model out for yourself first. Open offer, whenever you want,” which only makes a very-tipsy Veronica giggle harder.

“I have an idea!” Reggie suddenly declares. “Why don’t we play a game?”

Toni licks her lips in a way that makes Betty wonder if this is a scheme. “What did you have in mind, Reg?”

“Never Have I Ever, perhaps?” Reggie says. “I’ll start. Never have I ever dated anyone in this room.”

Betty’s eyes widen, her face burning as she takes a quick sip of her eggnog, newly replenished by Toni. She doesn’t dare turn to see if Jughead took a sip too, but Veronica and Reggie’s drunken whoops seem to answer that question. 

Sensing her discomfort and apparently less fucked up than Veronica, Toni quickly jumps in with a “never have I ever done MDMA” to save Betty and Jughead from having to disclose any more.

Eventually Never Have I Ever devolves into Truth or Dare which devolves into Quarters, and then suddenly it’s after 11 PM. 

The second Veronica announces “one hour till Christmas!” with a loud cheer, Betty turns fidgety. 

Toni notices and pours another round of drinks, and that’s when Betty realizes that Jughead looks fidgety too. Reggie must notice as well, because he sets to work rolling another joint.

“Anyone?” Reggie asks when he finishes, holding up the rather fat joint in the air. 

“Yes please,” Betty says quickly, almost at the same time Jughead says, “Yes!”

Toni and Veronica both pass on the joint, leaving Betty to stand at the window in between Reggie and Jughead, hearing Reggie’s drunken review of _A Christmas Carol._

Though only a couple minutes after lighting up, Reggie bows out, almost like he planned it. 

Left alone at the window, Betty and Jughead get lost in stoned conversation, talking about everything and nothing as they watch the smoke exit their mouths into the snowy wonderland below.

In fact, Toni and Veronica have to call to them, finally bringing them out of their haze with a gentle but insistent: “Betty, Jughead! Three minutes till midnight!”

Betty and Jughead exchange a confused look, each blinking like they’ve just been woken up from a deep slumber. They realize, startled, that the joint’s nearly a stub anyway, and Betty notices she’s actually quite cold. They each take a last hit and rejoin the group just in time, all cheering and yelling “Merry Christmas!” and hugging as it turns midnight. 

Veronica runs toward their little Christmas tree, where they’d all dropped their presents before dinner, and Betty laughs, her friend looks so much like a kid on Christmas morning. Which she kind of is.

“For you, Betty!” Veronica says, pushing a package into her hands. 

Everyone settles down onto the couch in a haze of cheer and wrapping paper. Toni squeals at the new camera lens Betty and Veronica had gone in on for her, and Betty blushes at the new vibrator from Veronica before squealing overly excitedly about the pocket knife Toni gifts her.

On the other side of the room, Reggie and Jughead share a loving hug after exchanging their own gifts. 

Toni hands Veronica the final present left under the tree, and Betty turns toward Jughead to find his eyes locked on hers, and a similar nervousness in his expression. 

In the corner, Reggie gets to work rolling a third joint. “This, my friends, is a gift for my lovely friends Toni and Veronica!” 

The distraction of Veronica flirting back with Reggie gives Betty the courage to do what she must. She clears her throat and says, “Um, Jug? My gift for you is...actually in my room.” 

Betty silently glares at the rest of them not to make any heavy-handed jokes, and it seems to work. After all, she’s really starting to seriously think Reggie was in on this too. Which might mean...that maybe it’s not just her who has a crush.

“Perfect,” Jughead says, picking up his own gift, wrapped in brown paper and twine, and following Betty down the hall.

Betty lets out a deep breath as she lets the door click definitively behind them. 

_This is it. This is the moment. You can do this, Betty._

Inside her room Jughead hovers by the door and, not wanting to prolong this any longer, Betty sits on her bed, patting the space beside her boldly. 

“Merry Christmas, Jug,” she says, handing him the package before she can talk herself out of it. _As Veronica reminded me earlier, even though I’m here now, the gift still speaks for its..._

“...speaks for itself.”

“What?” Betty says. 

“What?” Jughead asks, pausing from where he’d started ripping into the silver-and-gold wrapping paper.

“I missed what you said, sorry. Spaced out,” Betty says, her heart racing.

“I said, ‘my gift sort of speaks for itself,’” Jughead repeats, grinning at her like she’s adorable and not as ridiculous as she currently feels.

“That’s...that’s just funny,” Betty says, turning his gift over in her hands to begin opening it. “I was thinking the same thing about my gift for you.”

He smiles wider, resuming his motions so that the only sound in Betty’s room is that of paper ripping. 

Betty gasps when she opens a cardboard box to reveal a bound manuscript by Forsythe Pendleton Jones III. “You decided to start using your full name?”

Jughead nods sheepishly. Betty’s heart only starts beating faster when she notices he’s opened her present, unearthing the two journals stacked one on top of the other, but it doesn’t seem like he’s opened either of them yet.

“I figured it was as good as a pen name,” he replies, his hand smoothing over the leather of the new journal, almost identical to that of the freshman-year journal resting below it.

He looks back down at the journal, and somehow—this moment solidifies Betty's belief that she and Jughead are destined to be together—they both do the same thing in the same exact moment. 

As Betty turns the page of his manuscript, Jughead turns the page of her journal. 

Two pairs of eyes widen in almost the same instant. 

Two pining souls read two heartfelt inscriptions, the entire room holding its breath.

See, Betty’s gift wasn’t just the journal in which she’d written all her thoughts about Jughead since the first time they met five years earlier. No, it’s two journals: the old one and a fresh one, full of blank pages. Well, aside from the first page, on which she’d written, _I didn’t have the words for it the first time we met, but I do now. I’m in love with you. Can we start a new journal...only together this time?_

And, on the inside page of the same draft Jughead Jones had turned into his advisor just before break—the manuscript he wants, no, _needs_ Betty to read—is a hand-written note. 

_Dear Betty,_

_You’ve always been my favorite editor._

_Be ruthless, like you always are. It’s why I love you._

_xo,_

_Jug_

Jughead flips through the second journal, smiles fondly at all the handwritten notes about various stages of their love story, and then looks back up at Betty, a single tear in his eye. “Betty,” he whispers.

Betty feels choked up too, unable to say anything, to do anything, but reach for Jughead. That gap between them had felt too far to traverse all semester, but now Betty thinks that note will be burned into her brain for all eternity. _It’s why I love you._

His lips feel like coming home, and yet so much has changed in the years they’ve been apart that it still feels new, like a rebirth. A second chance at their first kiss. They linger in the kiss for a long time, just slowly tasting each other. Jughead’s arms come around Betty’s body, holding her in place, like if they just take this slow enough, the universe can’t intervene to ruin this thing between them again.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Betty reaffirms that she’s never really kissed anyone else who knows how to kiss her like Jughead did—like he still does. 

When they finally pull back, both panting for much-needed breath, Betty can’t help but ask the question on the tip of her tongue, the thing that’s driven her crazy since she first laid eyes on Jughead again four months earlier: “Why didn’t you bring up that we dated before?”

“What?” Jughead says, taken aback, the last reaction Betty expected. “Why didn’t _you_?”

“Because you didn’t!” Betty insists, her resolve melting with every second she stares into his eyes and sees what she now _knows_ is there: the same love reflected back at her.

“But I thought...I didn’t bring it up because you didn’t,” Jughead says dumbly, his voice trailing off as he seems to come to the same conclusion as her. She reaches for his hand and squeezes it, and he smiles at her. 

Betty sighs. “Okay, well, as oblivious to each other’s clear feelings it seems we both were, _Reggie_ must’ve figured it out. I mean, based on that game of Never Have I Ever?”

Jughead laughs loudly, his hand caressing her arm in a way that has the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. “He may have had some...help from me on that one. He said he’d be my ‘wingman.’” Betty snorts at his use of air quotes. “I may have finally told him everything when we went to go change earlier. Had no idea that would mean a drunken, blunt round of Never Have I Ever.”

Betty nods, the puzzle pieces fitting together. “ _Ah_.”

“Anyway, he’s never been one for subtlety, Reggie,” Jughead says.

“But he gets the job done,” Betty says with a wink and Jughead laughs.

“Well, do you think it’s possible he’s trying to wrangle a three-way with Veronica and that dude Archie?” Jughead says.

“He’s your roommate, does that sound like him?”

Jughead nods. “Oh, I have it on good authority that multiple three-ways have taken place whilst I was fast asleep in our dorm room.”

Betty snorts. “Okay, so he really _does_ get it done.” She considers her own friend’s relative openness to a good time—after all, Veronica openly said she was considering making 2021 her “hoe phase” only a day earlier. “I don’t know, they were pretty drunk, I wouldn’t say it’s out of the question,” Betty concludes. 

She looks up and realizes Jughead is staring at her. _How long was I sitting here considering that?_

“Betty,” Jughead says, his voice dropped lower than before.

“Yeah?” she asks, her voice shaking a little in anticipation. 

“Let’s stop talking about Reggie,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” Betty agrees. 

“Because I’m in love with you.” He smiles after he says it, grabbing her hand and kissing her palm reverently. 

“I’m in love with you too,” Betty says, a thrill in her voice at being able to say it out loud. She’d said it to one boyfriend before but had always regretted it, knowing the moment the words left her mouth that they’d been a lie. Something inside her had nervously given in to her instincts to please, to appease, to avoid any conflict.

But saying it to Jughead? There’s not a single doubt in her mind that it’s the truth. 

He reaches for her this time, pulling Betty toward him as he captures her lips. She groans as she sinks down into his lap, already feeling him hard underneath her. They kiss greedily, hungrily, all the sexual tension brewing between them for months finally unleashed. 

“Jug,” Betty groans when he begins peppering kisses down her neck. With every touch and kiss she feels her muscle memory come alive, things she’d forgotten about from years past suddenly present in every caress and touch. It feels like finally reuniting with an old friend, Jughead’s body molding perfectly around her own. 

And then their shirts come off and Betty sees how much has _really_ changed in the past five years. 

About twenty minutes into the hottest make-out session of her life, Betty comes up for air, breathing heavily as Jughead continues his excessive worshipping of her bare breasts. Betty moans, whispering, “Wait Jug, stop, stop.” 

He looks up, eyes concerned. “Just for a minute,” she says, leaning down and kissing him. “I want to…” she swipes her phone from where it had landed on the floor. “...tell Toni and Veronica not to wait up for us.”

Jughead smirks, leaning over and kissing the inside of her thigh, a mischievous look on his face that has Betty biting her lip. “...And get some condoms,” Betty adds, Jughead’s eyes lighting up as she drops her phone on the nightstand and throws Jughead the till-now-unused strip of condoms from her drawer. 

“Perfect,” Jughead says. “I plan on using multiple of those. Once I’ve had my proper fill of dessert.”

Betty’s head falls back on the bed, her smile deepening as Jughead grips the top of her thighs and lets his tongue begin its descent toward her center.

Three orgasms later, as they collapse in each other’s arms, Betty can’t help but think: _Merry Christmas indeed._

* * *

Betty wakes up on Christmas morning with her head on Jughead’s chest, his arms cradling her body as he continues to snooze beside her. She smiles, the kind of huge grin she’d usually only let herself feel when she’s alone. 

As if he can sense her beside him, Jughead stirs below her. 

“You awake, Jug?” Betty whispers and he smiles, not even opening his eyes as he reaches over to kiss her.

“Happy to see that wasn’t just an amazing dream,” Jughead quips. Betty kisses him again, as if to punctuate the point.

“No dream.”

“No Christmas pity fuck? Or drunk mistake?” Jughead checks.

“Jughead!” Betty says, aghast. “ _No_! Don’t you remember the very nostalgic and vulnerable gift I gave you last night?” 

Jughead laughs at her serious reaction, lavishing kisses down her face to make her giggle. “I was just testing you,” he teases. “I’m in love with you, Betty Cooper. No fluke, no mistake. Just a long overdue confession.”

“I’m in love with you too, Jughead Jones. Just _another_ long overdue confession,” Betty giggles, loving the way he turns a phrase. She always has.

Betty leans in to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as the kiss starts to deepen, but Jughead pulls back. “Not to be like, total eighteen-year-old us, but...this means we’re dating again, right?”

“It better. Because this is like, the greatest Christmas gift ever,” Betty replies. “Also not to sound like eighteen-year-old us.”

Jughead laughs, leaning in to give her a deep kiss, one that has Betty moaning in frustration and chasing him for more when he pulls back yet again. “Don’t get me wrong, Betts,” he says, kissing the top of her head as she snuggles in closer. “I love eighteen-year-old us. But I think twenty-four-year-old us is already blowing them out of the water.”

Betty giggles. They have a million things to talk about and catch up on and confess to and plan for the future, and Betty can't wait to do all of those things. But for now, she'll settle for reaching up to kiss him soundly on the mouth. “Me too.”


End file.
